Loki (26 page)

He looked around at the chaos he had caused and then back at her. “This is yours?”

“
Yes. Why have you destroyed it? What could be gained by doing this?”

He did not answer, but after a brief moment, a smile crossed his lips. He turned back to his kill and stuck his head back into its flesh, ignoring her completely.

She felt bile rise in her throat. She considered addressing him again, but was certain that he would not respond. She slowly backed away before turning around and quickly making her way to her hall.

Odin could see the frightened look in Freyja's eyes.

“
He destroys all he touches. He should not be here. I saw the look in his eyes. It is only a matter of time till he attacks one of the gods.”

Odin did not reply. He knew what she told him was the truth, but he also knew that it was not yet time for Fenrir to leave Asgard.

“
You saw him in the forest?”

“
Yes. I was drawn by the death and destruction I felt, and I followed the path. I did not know it would lead to Fenrir. But when I saw him,” she grew pale as she remembered the look on Fenrir's face as he turned back to his kill, “I sensed the lust for destruction. Allfather, he will not be content to roam the forests and kill woodland creatures for long.”

In fact, Fenrir had already killed and eaten several of the Einherjar, although none knew but him. Those warriors had not risen the following day.

“
Would you have him slain?”

“
No. You know I would not want life taken wantonly.”

“
Then what? Would you have me send him somewhere on Midgard where he would spend his time feasting on mortals?”

“
No, of course not. I would not send him where he could harm another.” She looked down, considering the possibilities. “Could he be bound?”

“
He would not be held by normal means. He is a creature of chaos, and even he has not realized his full potential yet.”

“
They would have a way to craft such a thing in Nidavellir.”

Odin smiled. He wondered when she would think of the dwarfs. He pretended to ponder the solution. “Yes, they could craft a bond that would hold him. Go to the dwarfs, then. Tell them we must have a fetter that will not break.”

“
Yes, Allfather. I will go to Nidavellir right away.”

Freyja left, and Odin felt himself shifting in time and place. He saw a wolf, a silver ribbon, and a grievous wound.

Chapter Seventeen

The smell in the large cave was repulsive. Freyja had heard Odin’s tales of how he had crafted the dwarfs from the maggots of Ymir’s flesh, but she had never really considered it to be true until this moment. Overwhelmed by their odor and appearance, she had no problem imagining them as maggots.

“
Do you have what I seek?” she asked.

The leader of this clan, a thin creature called Radsvid, spoke. “It is likely we have what you want, but if we do not, it can always be created. We are very eager to serve the gods, beautiful Freyja.” He flashed a smile with brown and crooked teeth, his eyes crawling over her body.

“
If you have it, then bring it forth,” she said.

The other dwarfs in the room, a dozen or so, also ogled her, although less brazenly. He had introduced them all, but she could not tell them apart.

Radsvid was all sycophantic reassurance. “Oh yes, we will bring it indeed, good Freyja. We are honored to serve the whims of the gods.” Freyja noted the intentional hesitation. Despite his pleas to the contrary, the dwarfs were eager to serve none but themselves, and she knew this. She signaled to her servants. They produced a small chest and set it down at her feet.

“
I have brought payment.” The chest was opened. The gleam of gold brought more light into the dark cave, and she smiled at the satisfied sound the dwarfs made as they gazed at the treasure.

“
There is more for you if you can deliver this fetter to me and it serves its purpose.”

“
Certainly this is fine payment, lovely Freyja.” He looked up at her. His eyes were pale gray, giving an impression of blindness. She could not tell if he were old or young, but the movements of his body conveyed the sense of a worm wriggling, and she thought once again of the maggots of Ymir’s flesh.

“
But surely there is more you can offer us?” Radsvid’s hand came up and traced her dress, touching the skin of her thigh.

She reached down and grabbed his throat, pulling him off his feet in one swift motion. She squeezed, and an audible snap reverberated from the walls of the cave. She dropped the lifeless body to the floor. The other dwarfs stared at her, fear evident on their faces.

“
You would do well not to test me again.” She let her eyes touch each of theirs, searing her threat into their brains. “Who speaks for you now?”

A smaller and slightly less repellent dwarf stepped forward. “I do, goddess.” She detected no ulterior purpose in his voice. “I am called Aurvang.”

“
Will you bring me my fetter?”

Aurvang looked down at the body of his former leader and grunted at some of the others. He issued quiet orders in a guttural language that Freyja did not know, and they hoisted up Radsvid’s body and took him deeper into the cave, to disappear in the darkness.

“
We do not have it, but can craft such a thing. It will take time.” He looked up at her with a glimpse of defiance but kept his distance. “And more gold.”

Freyja nodded at her servants and they brought forth two more chests, setting them down at Aurvang’s feet.

“
Give the fetter to my servants when you are finished.”

Aurvang nodded and bowed, keeping one eye on the goddess while she quickly swept out of the cave.

Odin never ceased to be amazed at the ingenuity of the dwarfs. They were not gods, nor did they have access to any sorcery, and yet they were able to craft things that rivaled anything the Aesir could have created.

The thin, silver ribbon in his hand was certainly one of their finest achievements. It did not look like much, but Odin could sense its power and craftsmanship. This fetter would hold any creature in the Nine Worlds who was bound with it, and it would hold till Ragnarok, when all bonds would be broken and chaos would reign.

There was a knock on his door, and he summoned Balder inside his chambers.

“
You summoned me, father?”

“
Do you fear the Fenris Wolf, Balder?”

The question caught him off guard, although the answer was simple enough. “It is a dangerous creature with an evil sire, but no, I do not fear it.”

“
You think to be a match for its power?”

“
Yes, father. It is a beast, and could not stand against any of the Aesir.”

Odin nodded. “So if it were to attack me, you would not worry for my safety?”

Balder narrowed his eyes. “Why these questions? Does the wolf plan an attack?”

Odin considered the question. There was no plan, at least not yet, and Fenrir would not be a true danger for some time. He wondered if his son would remember this conversation when he emerged from Yggdrasil to begin anew.

“
Answer my question,” Odin said.

“
It is a ridiculous thought, father. There are none who could stand against you, and you know this well. What is the meaning of these questions?”

Odin sighed. It was a heavy burden to know events to come but be unable to share them. He held out the silver ribbon to his son.

“
What is this?”

“
It is called Gleipnir, and it is a fetter created by the dwarfs. Take it.”

Balder gently took it from his father. He held it in his hands and looked down at it with curiosity.

“
It feels strong despite its weight. Why do you give it to me?”

“
The time will come when you will have need of it. Keep it on your person, and be prepared to use it.”

“
Yes, father.” He tucked it into his belt and wondered why his father would ask him questions that seemed to have such clear answers.

Fenrir turned when he heard a sound behind him, surprised that anything would be able to get so close without him knowing. He looked around and saw no one, although there was a faint scent in the air, one that smelled vaguely familiar. It was the scent of something he had smelled long ago, but he could not place it.

“
Who is there?” he growled. There was no answer.

His time in Asgard—as he had eventually learned this place to be called—was filled with survival at first. There were creatures that lurked in the woods that were more powerful than he. But he was fast and smart, and ferocious when the need arose. Eventually he had become the one to be feared, and all other creatures either gave him a wide berth or became his victims.

But he had quickly become dissatisfied with being merely master of these woods. Once he was no longer concerned with his own safety, his rapidly developing intelligence drove him to seek answers to the mystery of his existence. He had seen the packs of wolves many times, and knew that he did not belong with them. They were basic creatures who were driven only by instinct, while he was aware.

He prowled closer to the cities and towns, listening at windows and doors, gathering what information he could. He had learned much that had been hidden from him.

These creatures called themselves Aesir, and they had much in common. Their stories told of battle and war, of fighting against enemies that threatened to destroy them. These enemies were giants, but it was strange that the Aesir hated them so much for something that had not yet happened.

Talk always led up to a thing called Ragnarok, but he was unclear about what it meant. They dreaded it, although Fenrir would not have said that they feared it exactly. It was more a thing to rail against, to present as if it were an enemy that could not defeat their spirits, even while they spoke of the Nine Worlds burning. It did not make sense to him, but there were particulars of the story that drew his attention.

Before the giants arrived, a massive wolf would swallow the sun, leaving the Nine Worlds in darkness. Talk of this wolf always sent waves of satisfaction through him. He did not know where it came from or how it could swallow the sun, but he liked the story nonetheless.

He also learned of a banished one, an Aesir who had been exiled. This being was spoken of with loathing and hatred, and he was rarely named. He was called Sly One or Trickster. He eventually learned his true name and recognized it, even though he had never heard it before. The name stirred something in him.

He had tried to pry answers from Tyr, but the one who had fed him, had helped him survive, would not tell him anything. Fenrir was certain that he knew, however, and loathed him for failing to reveal it.

He looked carefully amongst the trees in the darkness, searching for any sign of an intruder in his woods. The scent was still in the air, and he knew that this being was close, even if he could not see him.

“
I will find you,” he said to himself, his voice low.

He heard a faint voice then, like a whisper on the wind. He froze and pricked his ears up, carefully listening. Someone spoke in a voice so low that he could just barely make out the words.

“
You are the rootless one,”
the voice said.

“
Who are you?” He turned slowly, attempting to find the source of the whispering. In the edge of his vision, he saw something flapping in the slight breeze. He turned, but there was nothing there.

“
You will be buried deep in Midgard.”

“
You speak boldly for one who hides in the trees.”

“
You have been betrayed.”

His ears lowered at this. “Betrayed by whom?”

“
He who offers you life even while he has taken it from you.”

“
You speak in riddles. Show yourself.”

“
You know nothing of she who birthed you.”

The voice taunted him with the knowledge he sought. He remained silent.

“
She was taken from you when you were new. And more were taken as well.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
You are alone and not alone. There are none like you and there are two others like you. They were taken from you along with she who birthed you.”

“
Bah. You speak in riddles again.” Despite his curiosity, he turned to walk deeper into the forest. He did not trust this disembodied voice.

He halted when a vague shape materialized in front of him. It was a man, lean with a fair face and reddish-blond hair. He appeared insubstantial; Fenrir could see the trees through him.

“
Who are you?”

“
I am the Sly One, the Trickster, the Sky Traveler. I am he who bore Sleipnir, he who takes many guises. I am Loki. Your father.”
The voice remained the same whispering on the wind.

“
You are my father? What are you?”

“
I was once of the gods, but have been exiled wrongly. And now you bear the brunt of their evil. But they have wronged you far more than me.”